Fox and Hound
by randomly
Summary: KakaNaru - and this one is with Yaoi; Dedicated to all the readers of my Behind Close Doors. Angsty two-shot, dark-ish, i suppose... Read it if you want to know more
1. Fox and Hound: Introductions

Fox and Hound: Introduction

**Random Rambling: Here is a quite angsty, I suppose, KakaNaru two-shot. **

**I dedicate this to all the readers of BCD, here you finally get some KakaNaru slash **

**Warnings: Rated M for a reason, people. This contains Yaoi. Slash. Boy on Boy loving.**

**If you do not like that, please click the back button instead of complaining at the end.**

**You were warned; if you still want to read it, go ahead.**

**Disclaimer; do you think Masashi Kishimoto would write this? Good, neither do I. **

**Naruto belongs to him, this plot/Story belongs to me.**

**Now read ;)**

**--**

**Fox and Hound: Introduction**

**Apathy**

ap • a •thy - ap-_uh_-thee

_-noun, plural – thies _

Absence or suppression of passion, emotion, or excitement.

Lack of interest in or concern for things that others find moving or exciting.

Also, ap • a • thei • a, ap • a • thi • a

Stoicism. Freedom from emotion of any kind

- _Synonyms _**1.** Coolness. **2 **See INDIFFERENCE

- Antonyms **1.** Ardor, fervor.

**Indifference**

In • dif • fer • ence - in-**dif**-er-_uh _ns

_-noun _

lack of interest of concern

unimportance; little or no concern

the quality of condition of being indifferent

mediocre quality; mediocrity.

_- Synonyms _**1.** INDIFFERENCE, UNCONCERN, LISTLESSNESS, APATHY, INSENSIBILITY all imply lack of feeling. INDIFFERENCE denotes and absence of feeling or interest; UNCONCERN, an absence of concern or solicitude, a calm or cool indifference in the face of what might be expected to cause uneasiness or apprehension; LISTLESSNESS, an absence of inclination or interest, a languid indifference to what is going on about one; APATHY, a profound intellectual and emotional indifference suggestive of faculties either naturally sluggish or dulled by emotional disturbance, mental illness or prolonged sickness; INSENSIBILITY, an absence of capacity for feeling or susceptibility to emotional influences.

_- Antonyms_ **1.** Eagerness, responsiveness

**Fox**

A blonde shinobi aged 19 is standing at the bridge where he and his team used to meet back in his genin days, the nostalgia which would usually overcome him, or any other person in his situation, never coming. He looks at his surroundings, his gaze apathetic, his eyes so void of any emotion that, it seems, they might just drag you in if you dare to look into them.

In the ninja world people like – not to such an extent as the blonde, but resembling him – the teen are not uncommon; it is a known fact that the shinobi are merely tools, not having any emotions is the simplest way to get through life, but for those who know the blond for who he used to be the change is so extreme that it nearly seems the male is not the same person any longer; it's almost terrifying to see what has become of him.

The teen standing at the bridge used to be, according to anyone who knew him before his world became the living hell that it is now, Konoha's number one most hyper-active knucklehead ninja, now he is but a shadow of his former self. The boy is completely apathetic, indifferent to anything, even the missions he undertakes do not matter to him anymore, the lives he take don't seem to bother him like they would before, and the only reason he still does take missions is that he hopes, so dearly hopes, that on one of the missions something will happen and he will die, but alas no. Death seems not to be meant for him; his whole life a wish for death has been hiding in the deepest, darkest part of his mind, even when he was younger, however happy he seemed he often thought, in his lonely hours, of how much easier it would be for everyone if he was dead - everyone including himself – although he would try his hardest to push that thought away and rather attempt to lead a happy life like when he was younger.

There are several reasons he is not dead yet, he supposes, the most obvious being the demon sealed inside him. The demon that will not let him die. Then there is the fact that he has unfulfilled promises that come to haunt him in the very moments before he is supposed to die, every time, and he subconsciously defends himself, killing the enemy and returning back home to his failed life yet again. There have been occasions when he's returned to Konoha on the brink of death; bled out, poisoned, torn to shreds – but he is always saved by the woman that has taken him in as her little brother, and when he sees those sad, brown eyes looking into his, telling him that he still has things to live for, he almost feels. Almost, but not quite.

He walks slowly towards the central part of the city. As he passes Ichiraku's, a place he often used to dine before, he lifts a hand to wave to the owner and his daughter to be polite, he no longer has any kind of relationship with them, in fact it's been more than two years since he last talked to either of them. He keeps walking, occasionally making a left here and a right there until he ends up outside a run-down apartment building; his apartment building. The blonde walks slowly up the stairs – the elevator is broken - until he gets to the sixth floor, taking a key out of his pocket and unlocking the door, slamming it closed behind him as he enters the dirty, run-down, two room apartment that has come to be his home. A home, nothing more, nothing less, simply the place that he goes to sleep at night whenever he is in Konoha, other than those few hours each night he tries to stay away from it as much as he can, he doesn't like it there. Not that he cares, no, but that place which he has always lived holds so many traces of his past that his apathetic self would prefer to avoid, not one for reminiscing.

The teen puts his equipment down by his bed, pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it to the pile of dirty clothes lying by his bathroom door, then walks slowly into the kitchen. He opens the fridge, looking through it before he pulls out a carton of orange juice and an apple that he bought yesterday – he's stopped eating ramen too, that which used to be his favorite food, rather sticking with the healthy alternatives, he is a shinobi after all, enjoyment has no place in his life. A melancholy smile graces his lips for reasons he does not care to think about as his eyes pass the picture of Team 7, the only trace of his past that he's kept, then he walks back into his bedroom/living-room, sitting down on his bed as he eats. When he's done eating he finds a new tee from his closet, black like most of his clothes nowadays, and puts it on before he again leaves his apartment.

He heads out, unsure of where he's going or what he is doing, nodding in acknowledgement as he passes old acquaintances – Neji, Shikamaru, Hinata – yes, acquaintances are what they are to him now, nothing more, nothing less. Back in the day he would have called them friends, but not any longer, he only speaks to them when they occasionally go on missions together, which for his part is seldom ever since he made the rank of a hunter, he prefers working alone. When he walks into the missions office Iruka sits there, the chuunin smiling at his former student and 'adoptive son' desperately reaching out to the boy, any reaction from the blonde's would be good enough, but nothing. Not even the one who was always there for him can seem to get even the slightest twitch of his lips any more; he hasn't _really_ smiled in so long.

The blonde quickly takes a folded paper out of one of his pockets, opening it up before he puts it on the desk before the tan male, saying his greetings and formal pleasantries before he turns his back on the man and leaves, not seeing the sad look in the scarred man's eyes or the single tear trailing his cheek.

Once he's delivered the report of his last mission, that was the purpose for his going out, he doesn't know what to do, letting his feet take him where they want. He ends up in a small meadow. A stone on which several of his former friends names are engraved stands in the middle of this small sanctuary, the memorial stone. There are so many names on it, he thinks to himself, _why not mine too_?

He reads the many names on the dark grey stone, tracing those of the ones he knew gently with his fingertips; Sasuke – yes, the Uchiha prodigy was killed, by him in fact, it's a long story, perhaps he will think about it some other time, but not now. Jiraiya, the man who was like a father figure to him, but who gave his life in the great battle of Konoha and the Akatsuki, the reason he chose not to feel. Yondaime, not that he knew the man, but he was his father, and the blonde, had he been his old self, would wonder how different his life could have been, but he doesn't care to waste energy on wishful thinking. And then there is Kiba, the boy was one of his closest friends when he was alive, who died on the very mission when he killed Sasuke…

He doesn't want to be there any longer, doesn't want to see all those names out of fear that if he stays his memories will come to haunt him, and he knows that if his memories come to him, then so will his old dreams, and when he thinks of his memories and dreams it hurts. It hurts so much; that is why he has chosen not to feel.

He turns around and starts to walk, only to notice a familiar shadow standing at the end of the woods surrounding the small clearing, rain starting to fall from the heavy skies above as he hears his name being said in a familiar voice.

"Naruto."

**Grief** greef

_-noun  
_**1. **Keen mental suffering or distress over affliction of loss; sharp sorrow; painful regret.  
**2.** A cause or occasion of keen distress or sorrow.  
_-Idioms  
_**3. Come to grief, **to suffer disappointment, misfortune, or other trouble; fail  
**4.** **Good grief, **(used as an exclamations of dismay, surprise, or relief)

_-Related forms  
_**griefless, **_adjective  
_**grief • less • ness,** _noun_

_-Synonyms_ **1.** Anguish, heartache, woe, misery; sadness, melancholy, moroseness  
See SORROW

_-Antonyms _**1. **Joy.

**Sorrow**

**sor·row** **sor**-oh, **sawr**-oh

**1.** distress caused by loss, affliction, disappointment, etc.; grief, sadness, or regret.

**2.**a cause or occasion of grief or regret, as an affliction, a misfortune, or trouble: _His first sorrow was the bank failure._

**3. **the expression of grief, sadness, disappointment, or the like: _muffled sorrow._

–_verb (used without object)  
_**4. **to feel sorrow; grieve.

—_Related forms_

**sor·row·er, **_noun _

**sor·row·less, **_adjective _

—_Synonyms _1**.** Sorrow, distress, grief, misery, woe imply bitter suffering, especially as caused by loss or misfortune. Sorrow is the most general term. Grief is keen suffering, esp. for a particular reason. Distress implies anxiety, anguish, or acute suffering caused by the pressure of trouble or adversity. Misery suggests such great and unremitting pain or wretchedness of body or mind as crushes the spirit. Woe is deep or inconsolable grief or misery. 2**.** adversity. 4**.** mourn, lament.

**Hound**

Memories; they are all that he has, all he won't let go of. They're what keep him human.

He's a shinobi: a killer, a tool. He's killed so many, taken the lives of so many loved ones, and in his sleep he sees them yet again; waking in a sweat, his heart pounding in his chest. He looks at the clock on his nightstand, the green numbers telling him it's 6.15 am; he's still got an hour till he needs to get up.

As he sits up in his bed, the silver-haired male moves his gaze from the clock to the two other objects on his nightstand; two pictures. The picture closest to the clock, the one on the right, depicts the team he was on from he was a genin until he became jounin, _god how he misses those days_. He never had an easy life, he thinks, he never knew his mother and his father – the legendary white fang of Konoha – committed suicide after a mission that took a, to say the least, completely wrong turn, leaving him to fend for himself at an early age. Ever since his father's suicide he has chosen to live by the rules, at least then he has _something_, an anchor for his sanity, so to speak. He looks at the faces in the picture, at those faces he will never see again; no, even his own will no look like it did back then even thought he is the one who ought to have changed the least.

He smiles a melancholy smile as thoughts of what his life could have been pass through his mind, quickly chasing it away. He does not wish to think that he could have been happy, he doesn't deserve it, and it hurts. The faces in the picture smile at him, making him hurt all the more; a young girl, himself and another boy. Both those two are gone now, the boy is dead. Uchiha Obito, his best friend, is dead, the boy died saving him. The girl, Rin, he doesn't know what happened to her; she disappeared on a mission never to be seen again, assumed dead. She was the one who have him Obito's present, a sharingan eye. As he looks to the top of the picture, the mismatched eyes seem to sadden even more, a low sigh escaping his lips. He looks at their sensei, Namikaze Minato, Yondaime Hokage, his blue eyes seem to – still, even after his death – look straight through the male's soul, his blonde hair making him look so much like a certain, other blonde. Uzumaki Naruto, his son.

The man, who is in his mid-thirties, turns his head slightly to look at the picture to the left; again he sights. Also in this picture there are four people, himself and the team of genin he was assigned to teach, to take care of. If he was one for emotions a tear might have escaped his eyes at this point of time, but he is not, and it doesn't. Instead he keeps looking at the picture. He takes a look at himself first, he looks quite the same as in the older picture, the only difference is that in the more recent one he is holding a bright orange book – the title reads "Icha Icha" andsomething he cant work out, and the slight hint of a smile beneath his mask is not real like in the old photo.

Moving along he looks at the three twelve-year olds, the girl first. She looks so happy, so sure of herself, and if he looks away from her pink hair she reminds him of Rin. Then he looks at the boy with jet black hair and black eyes. Uchiha Sasuke, the boy who became a traitor, and he frowns as he looks to the last pre-teen in the picture, thinking of how much grief the raven has caused him, and still is causing him.

The last person in the picture looks so much like his father it's stunning, and although he does not carry his father's name it is not hard to see that Naruto is the Yondaimes legacy. The widely grinning blonde in the picture has changed so much it's causing quite a lot of people to worry for him; Uzumaki Naruto is but a shell of his former self. The man, who used to be his teacher, hasn't spoken to him in ages, he is not proud of it, but that is the way things have turned out.

As he continues to ponder about the blonde, the man's eyes again strife his clock; it's now 7 am and he decides to get up. Time passed so much faster than he thought as he was thinking back. He shoves the nostalgic feeling out of the back of his head and puts on his clothes slowly. When he's dressed he walks into his kitchen, preparing himself a quick meal consisting of two eggs and some toast before he locks up his apartment and goes to the missions office to hand in the report for the mission he just returned from. He's back on active ANBU duty now.

When he enters the dull building that is the missions office he notices a couple of familiar faces; Genma, Izumo and, of course, Iruka, who works there. He looks at the younger male, smiling as he walks towards him, but as he gets closer he sees the sadness in the man's eyes, the traces of a long gone tear that has rolled down his cheek leaving the skin looking slightly different due to the salty liquid. He hands the report over to the chuunin and tries to make conversation; he can't stand to see the male in such a state as he is now, and has been for quite some while.

After some minutes of unpleasant, uncomfortable conversing he gives up, walking away with tired steps and heading out into the daylight again. He finds one of the many bars of Konoha and goes inside, settling by the counter ordering some sake, giving the bartender a 50 percent tip simply because he doesn't want the change. As he drinks he can't help thinking about Iruka, it's been close to a year since they broke up – they were too different – but he still thinks about the younger male, worries about him. Although he knows that it would never work out between them, and that the male has moved on – he's seeing Shizune now (yes, he's bi) – he can't help but feel his heart wrenching every time he sees the male looking sad, which has been often as of late although he doesn't know why – probably something to do with Naruto, he thinks to himself.

Once he's finished his sake he gets up and leaves, heading for the place that binds him to this village that he lives in, the memorial stone, where his heart and soul are trapped in the names of his comrades that are etched into it. It only takes him minutes to get there, but when he's standing at the edge of the clearing he sees a familiar person walking away from the stone, hesitating before he calls out.

"Naruto." The blonde looks up, avoiding his eyes.

"Kakashi."

--

**Random Rambling: The Yaoi comes in the second chapter. **

**Feed my soul with reviews, please!**


	2. We Are Broken

Fox and Hound: Introduction

**Random Rambling: Here is a quite angsty, I suppose, KakaNaru two-shot. **

**I dedicate this to all the readers of BCD, here you finally get some KakaNaru slash **

**Warnings: Rated M for a reason, people. This contains Yaoi. Slash. Boy on Boy loving.**

**If you do not like that, please click the back button instead of complaining at the end.**

**You were warned; if you still want to read it, go ahead.**

**Disclaimer; do you think Masashi Kishimoto would write this? Good, neither do I. **

**Naruto belongs to him, this plot/Story belongs to me.**

**Now read ;)**

**--**

**Fox and Hound: We Are Broken**

Two familiar shinobi are looking at each other, one of them, a blonde teen, crossing the field and closing the distance between him and the older quickly. The silver haired male lifts his head to look at the younger male, not making eye-contact. He nods in acknowledgement to the blonde, lifting his right hand as a greeting.

"Hello" the older says, looking at the blonde's face, but still not into his eyes.

"Hey" the blonde replies flatly, studying the person in front of him without interest.

"How are you?" The jounin asks out of concern for the hunter, said hunter avoiding the question – it is one he does not feel like answering since he would have to lie to avoid a long speech of concern, and he doesn't want to do that – countering with one of his own.

"What's behind your mask?" the blonde asks. It's not that it really matters to him, he just asks to see if this time, perhaps, the perverted jounin might give him an answer.

"Another mask" the hound smiles beneath the cloth that covers his face, maybe the blonde might still be capable of feeling, this questions has been asked before. Before when he was young, innocent, and his eyes still held hope for the future.

"No, I mean, what does your face look like?" He looks at his elder not expecting an answer, and the silver-haired male can see that he is still indifferent to the answer, he is merely asking to see what the silver-haired man will reply, the coolness in the teen's eyes so strong that the older male can literally feel the icy glare on his skin.

The jounin and ANBU captain doesn't know what to do, what to say. He stands in silence, looking at the blonde's face, passing his gaze over the teen's eyes, but he doesn't dare to look into them, afraid that if he lets his eyes stay on the stoic, blue ones for too long he will be lost in them forever. His left hand is fiddling with the old, worn Icha Icha volume that he always keeps in his pocket; his right is absentmindedly fiddling with a strap on his vest. The blonde remains silent, awaiting the answer yet to come. The silver haired male lifts his hands and, unsure of why, he gently, slowly pulls down the two layers of cloth that cover his face, revealing his biggest secret to the blonde.

"Like this." The blonde nods in what the jounin interprets as acceptance to his actions, then he lifts his gaze so that it meets the older man's, even though said man was trying to avoid such a situation.

"Why do you hide it?" There is nothing wrong with the man's face, the younger notes, if anything he is actually quite handsome. The scar that runs across his sharingan eye is longer than the blonde had assumed, running half way down his cheek, and he has another scar that runs diagonally over the left side of his lips; one would think the scars would somehow damage his appearance, but strangely, the blonde finds, they only serve to enhance his handsome features.

"I can't stand it." The jounin's voice is indifferent, it seems, but to someone like the blonde it's easy to notice the hint of sadness and detest laced in his words. The blonde knows he shouldn't push the topic further, but, disregarding the signs going off in his mind, another questions escapes his lips.

"Why?" Now the hunter is sure he's pushed it too far, the jounin visibly flinching at the question.

The silver haired male thinks for a long time before he speaks, unsure of what to say, but yet again – still not knowing why – he answers the blonde's question.

"Because…" He spends a minute trying to formulate his words right. "It reminds me of what life could have been. It reminds me of my old team, Obito, Rin and Minato, the Yondaime, and I can't stand that constant reminder – it just… I simply would prefer to avoid a visual reminder of my failure, I think about it enough as it is." He shrugs, his mask is still around his neck, and for once he doesn't care to pull it up, leaving his face exposed.

"Oh." The blonde nods, he wasn't expecting an answer, and definitely not something like the one he got. He allows himself the freedom of showing emotion, if only for a split second, and the older sees the glimpse of understanding and sadness that passes his eyes, then it's gone.

"What happened?" the older male asks.

"Hm?" the blonde doesn't quite understand the question, looking questioningly at his elder, awaiting an explanation.

"Why did you change?" the hunter wants to walk away, to just ignore the words just said and pretend he never heard them, but he knows he can't. Plenty of people have asked him similar things, how he is and such, but no one has ever thought as far as to ask the question his former sensei just did, and although he feels the urge to run away he can't, something deep inside him forcing him to stay.

"I…" he looks up, and this time the mismatched eyes meet his, matching his stare with a confident one. "I killed _him."_ The gestures to the memorial stone with one hand, both males know the '_him'_ that he speaks of. Uchiha Sasuke.

"Is that why?" the jounin doesn't even reply, another question following his first instead of attempting to appeal to the teen's emotions.

"He was my best friend, and I killed him." The blonde shakes his head, a shudder running down his spine as he thinks back to that time.

_Black and blonde stand facing each other, it's the first time they've seen each other for three years. _

"_Sasuke." The blonde looks so sure of himself, but on the inside he is falling apart, the pieces flying their separate ways._

"_Naruto…" the raven locks his obsidian eyes onto the clear, blue ones of his former teammate, who is now a hunter with him as the quarry, the hunter's mask the other teen is supposed to keep on at all times turned away from his face._

"_Why?" that single, dreaded question escapes the blonde's lips, making the raven shudder with disgust at his own actions. _

"_I've killed him." It's not a direct answer to the question, but to the blonde it's exactly what he wanted to hear. _

"_Good for you" he lets on a strange, malicious-looking smile that makes his counterpart want to back away and leave as quick as hell, the Uchiha, however, knows he cannot do such a thing._

"_Thank you" he replies, still staying in his place._

"_I'm sorry." He looks at the blonde questioningly._

"_Why?" This time it's the ravens turn to ask._

"_I have to kill you, it's my mission. I'm a hunter now, as you see" the blonde refers to his uniform as he speaks. Even though the raven knows what danger he is in he doesn't even attempt to run away, his eyes still locked on the familiar cerulean ones._

"_Come at me, then."His voice is calm and collected as he speaks, much unlike his mind. He's done what he left to do, now what? He wants to do more with his life, but it seems his village – no, it isn't his village any longer – Konoha has seen that they do not need a traitor, sending a hunter out to get him._

_The blonde nods, he has permission now. He knows that even though he has to kill the raven the other teen understands. He charges at his former teammate, pulling out the longer of his two katana as he closes the distance between them, feeling the metal of his blade clash with another metal blade. The fight goes on for quite some time, but in the end he is victorious, like he had already decided he would be, his katana piercing the other man's heart, blood running from his mouth as he coughs, it looks so red against his fair complexion._

"_I'm sorry, Sasuke" he mumbles, almost to himself, his eyes still on the black, unclosed ones._

"_Na… unh…" The black haired boy falls limp in his arms before he can speak. Dead. _

_As he turns back he can see the rest of his team has arrived, Sakura is crouching over Kiba, Neji standing close to her, meeting the blonde's gaze ones he sees that the goal of their mission has been accomplished. Naruto looks down at Sakura as he approaches them, the eyes that meet his telling him that not everything went well._

"_He's dead, he lost too much blood, there was nothing I could do." The blonde stops dead in his tracks, the arms of the boy hanging limply in his arms swinging slightly at the quick halt. _

"_I'm sorry…" he mumbles, more to the dead boy on the ground than anyone else, the pink haired medic nin looks at him with sympathetic eyes, yet the hint of accusation in them is what hits him, what hurts him more than anything. She blames him. She blames him for Kiba's death, which may be a half-fair accusation since the dog-nin died saving him, and she blames him for the death of the love of her life, which is also, although it was he who killed him, only partially his fault. He was told by his village, as a hunter, to bring with him a team of shinobi and track down Uchiha Sasuke and kill him, that is what he did – no more, no less – and yet he knows that the memory of this day will never leave him alone._

"You did what you were told." It is true; the teen did what he was asked of his village.

"I still killed him. I killed my best friend. Do you know how much that hurts?" The question is laced with anger, fear and sadness – the teen that asked mere seconds ago is confused and not a little surprised not to see hate, accusation or any other such emotion in the mismatched eyes, rather than that he finds understanding.

"Yes, I do" the blonde looks up, his eyes showing clearly that he doesn't believe what the male in front of him is saying. After all, how could anyone know how it felt?

"How can you?" the older doesn't want to remember, and definitely not to speak of his past, but again not knowing the reason, he does.

"I did the same thing. Not in the same way you did, but I am the reason my best friend and teammate died." _I am the reason Obito died. _

"Oh" sounds the ever-intelligent reply, he never knew.

"We're much more alike than you seem to think, Naruto." The jounin makes a point of using the blonde's name. "Except for the fact that we're a different age, and that my sensei and I acted differently towards our teams, our situations are very much the same" The blonde doesn't want to believe what he's hearing, but none the less he wants to know more.

"What… happened?" he asks, knowing he might be pushing it too far, not really expecting a reply.

"We were on a mission, I was the team leader, it was just after I made the rank of jounin. Our team mate, Rin, was taken captive by the enemy and Obito wanted to go after her, he wanted to do what was right, but I said we should stick to the rules and complete the mission first. We went separate ways, then I realized what was happening and went after them. Things happened, and he died protecting me – he died because I made the wrong decisions." The jounin looks sad speaking of his tragedy.

"It's not the same, can't you see that?" the blonde asks with a cold voice. "He died protecting you, I killed _him_."

"I still know how you feel… I blame myself for it, and I think about it every single day, Naruto." The jounin says. Seeing the surge of emotion that fills the blonde's eyes is somehow comforting, knowing that the blonde still is capable of feeling calms him in a strange way.

"Still, he was my best friend, my brother, my _lover_, and I killed him, it hurts beyond comparison, and you can't possibly know how it feels, Kakashi." The blonde's eyes are filled with tears that spill, running down his scarred cheeks before they fall to the ground, he doesn't even attempt to hide his emotions any longer. His fists are clenched by his side to stop him from shaking; he works hard to choke back the sobs. "Do you still think you know how I feel?"

The jounin doesn't feel worry at seeing the blonde break down, neither does he feel sadness or any such emotions, no, he feels joy. Joy because the hunter is finally showing what he really feels. Joy because the teen might still have some of his old self somewhere deep within. Joy because the child is still not beyond saving.

"Yes. I loved _him, _too" sounds the reply.

"I had to kill him with my own two hands; I had to kill the only person I've ever loved like that with my own two hands… Undertaking that one mission I pushed away everything that I ever held close. He's dead, he'll never return. Sakura may pretend that she doesn't care, but she does, and she may act like she doesn't blame me, but deep down she hates me so much. Kiba died on that mission, too, he was one of my closest friends, and he died because I asked him to come with me on the mission and he was protecting me…" the tears come quicker, and the blonde's eyes show the despair he's kept inside for so long, the fears that haunt him finally reaching the surface.

"…" this time it is the elder that is at a lack for words, he looks into those clear cerulean eyes knowing he has to speak, but he doesn't know what to say. Focusing all his energy he manages to form words with his mouth that come out slowly. "there are still people who care for you, Naruto, don't you know what you are doing to them? Don't you care?" the blonde looks up into his mismatched eyes, unable to keep a sob from escaping his lips, there is still a coldness over him, but the jounin can feel it fading, happily.

"What about them?" the boy asks as calmly as he can, his vision blurred with the salty liquid that steadily drops from his eyes.

"Have you seen Iruka lately, what you've done to him?" the elder sounds mad, "he's falling apart, Naruto, because of you. He can't stand what's happening to you, and the fact that you won' tell him is tearing him to pieces right in front of all our eyes, but we can do nothing. Then there's Tsunade, she worries so much for you that she's going out of her mind, and your old friends talk about you too… and then there's me, Naruto. I care… Why have you become this…?" the silver haired male speaks sternly, but there is some sort of warmness in his voice that Naruto can't quite place, it reminds him of concern.

"So…" his voice is cold again, he puts on the act that he doesn't care although hearing what the ANBU captain has to say, especially about Iruka, hurts him.

"You're not the only person who matters, kid, get that into your head. So you've had a rough life, we all have. So yours might have been worse than ours, do you think the world's going to stop turning just for that matter? We are shinobi, hardships are the day to day basics of our lives, we are tools, after all."

Now the blonde is the one at a loss of what to say, he lifts his eyes to look into those of his former sensei, but just as his meets the mismatched red and charcoal he feels the remainder of his strength draining from his body as he collapses to the ground, there is nothing he can do to stop it. Just as he thinks the impact is about to hit he feels strong arms wrap around him, then his weight is being shifted and he finds himself being held up in the jounins arms bridal style.

"What happened to you, Naruto?" the man asks himself as he sees the look of sadness, fear and exhaustion on the blonde's face. The blue eyes open, searching for something in the older man's eyes; once he finds it they fall shut again, the child leaning into the man's safe, warm chest. "What happened?"

The child sleeps, his breath is slow and even against the elder's chest as he is carried away by those strong arms that seem to be the only thing keeping him from falling, both literally and metaphorically speaking. The jounin keeps walking for a while, he knows where he's going, but he would rather not be seen, taking the longer, less crowded route as he heads for his apartment. It takes him almost half an hour to walk there with the blonde hanging limply in his arms, as soon as he is inside he kicks the door shut, then proceeds to walk to his bedroom where he puts the blonde down on the bed; the kid needs what rest he can get, he looks as if he hasn't slept in too long.

Just as he puts the boy down on the bed and turns to leave he feels a weak grip around his wrist, turning to see what the blonde wants. The boy seems still to be asleep judged from his breathing and the much calmer than usual expression on his face, and it is only when his blue eyes slowly flutter open that the silver haired male can be sure he is awake.

"Stay" the blonde says, his voice is weak, but his grip tightens around the ANBU captain's wrist, pulling him towards the bed lightly. "Please."

There is something in the teen's eyes that he cannot overlook, a plea that seems to be coming from the very depths of the boy's heart that has been hidden for too long. The boy tugs a little harder, but he doesn't speak.

Not speaking, the older male sits down on the bed next to the teen and takes off his jounin vest, throwing it in a chair in the corner of the room. He gets up again, walking around the bed and getting in on the other side, lying down next to the blonde.

He doesn't know how long he lays awake, but after what he can guess to be a couple of hours he feels Naruto moving closer to him, then embracing him. He doesn't open his eyes even now, staying still in his place in hopes of not waking the blonde. As minutes pass, nothing changes, he decides to open his eyes, when he does he finds the clear, blue ones of the Yondaime's son looking back at him.

"Kakashi" the blonde's voice is different than usual, but he can't quite place what it is that has changed. "Take me."

Now he knows; it is lust that clouds the teen's angelic voice, the same lust that fills his eyes and that the jounin himself is feeling at this very moment, even knowing how wrong what is happening is. And it is wrong; on so very many levels it is wrong.

"I can't." Two words, yet he sees the rejection in the blonde's eyes caused by them, the pain that passes his saddening blue orbs.

"Please," the boy says, his voice changes again, it's unsteady now, and insecure and scared. "Please do it, for me… I need it, Kakashi. I need you." The three last words are what do it for the jounin as he turns to face the blonde fully.

"Are you sure?" he asks, the blonde nods his head, a strange sense of calmness is in his eyes.

The jounin leans forwards and puts his lips on the blonde's, it's slow at first, and gentle, but as time passes the kiss evolves into a deep, passionate, bruising one. The more experienced is licking at the blonde's lips, begging for entrance which he is granted; as soon as he is given permission his tongue darts into the other's mouth, forcing the less experienced into submission before it continues to explore the warm, wet crevasse, claiming the blonde's mouth for his own.

The kiss goes on for minutes before the two have to break, neither wanting to end the passionate liplock, but they both need air. As they move apart, the jounin lifts his gaze from the younger male's lips to his blue, needing eyes, wondering why the sudden change in the boy occurred, and why now. The blonde bends forwards, slowly, until his mouth moves over the soft skin of the silver-haired man's neck, licking and sucking at it, leaving traces of his presence, knowing they will be hidden by the mask the very next morning, so it doesn't matter. The older can't help but letting out a moan as the boy continues down his chest, tracing his left nipple with his tongue before he bites it lightly, all the while playing with the other with his slender fingers.

The ANBU captain feels his hands moving by themselves, one of them plays with the boy's soft, blonde hair, the other moves to his cheek and tilts his head up so their eyes meet yet again. The sight of the younger male makes the jounin's member spring to life, the blonde hair and blue eyes against his sun-kissed skin is an erotic sight in itself, enhanced by the moonlight breaching into the room and the beads of sweat covering the blonde's body due to heat of the summer night.

"Naruto," His voice is deep and lustful, yet there is something more to it, worry, perhaps. "Do you still want this?" In a way he is hoping the boy will say no, knowing how wrong what they are doing is, but his body yearns for him to say yes.

"I'm sure," the blonde says, then he moves further up the elder's body again, taking the hand that cups his cheek and lifting it to his mouth, he proceeds to start sucking on the man's fingers. He still hasn't looked away from the mismatched eyes when he speaks "I'm not a virgin, you know, but it's… it's been a while…"

The older man is stunned at the blonde's actions, his words, however, come as no surprise, he seems to know what he is doing quite well. As he feels his fingers sliding out of the boy's mouth he notices that the blonde has already pulled off his own pants and that he is trying to take of his too, he moves slightly to aid the struggling blonde who, with one tug, pulls of his pants and throws them to the floor.

"Ready," the jounin whispers although he already knows the answer.

"Mhm" sounds the reply from the blonde who again moves closer to his former teacher.

The older is careful as he inserts one of his slender digits in the blonde's entrance, feeling the boy's muscles clench around it. He kisses the blonde passionately as his finger moves to stretch the blonde before he adds another, succeeding in moving the boy's attention from the unpleasant sensation of being stretched. Yes, he knows it is unpleasant, he has been the uke himself before, though only once, and he prefers not to think of the incident. When he feels the boy is ready he insert's a third digit into the boy, his muscles eventually relaxing around the intrusion until…

"Mm… Kakashi!" he moans, the jounin knows he has found the teens magic spot as the boy tenses, then relaxes again. "Do it again, please" he begs for the pleasure, the older is unable to resist the pleas, brushing the boy's prostate with his fingers yet again, and again earning himself the privilege of having the boy moan his name out loud.

The boy stills as the fingers are pulled out, he feels empty, then he feels what he can, without looking, only assume to be the jounin's member poking at his entrance, teasing.

"Be gentle, please…" he whispers, the jounin nods, then starts pushing slowly into the blonde, stopping when he is completely inside of him, waiting for the blonde to adjust. Once the boy feels comfortable he nods, letting the older male know he can continue.

The man pulls out almost completely, slowly, before he again buries himself inside the blonde. He repeats his actions several times, the blonde bucking up to meet his thrusts, and keeps the same rhythm until the blond leans into him, whispering wantonly into his hear.

"Do me faster, Kakashi…" He meets the man's thrusts harder than before. "Harder…" He can do nothing but comply with the teen's wishes as all his commons sense abandoned him long ago, he moves faster until, in the end, he is slamming into the blonde, said blonde panting heavily.

"'Kashi!" The blonde moans loudly, he's found what he was looking for. Repeatedly he hits the blonde's prostate, repeatedly earning moans from the boy, his lust-filled yet still angelic voice calling out the other name.

He feels himself nearing completion, moving his hand between them and taking hold of the teen's erect member, fisting him in time with the movements of his hips. The hunter shivers with pleasure, moaning and panting, he is the most erotic sight the jounin has ever seen, then he arches back, screaming out the elder's name has he cums between them, the white liquid spilling onto their bodies. It's finally too much for the jounin as he releases his seed into the blonde, he feels the younger's nails scraping at his back as he does so – it isn't the most powerful orgasm he has had, but it's certainly the best and most wanted.

After a few more thrusts he pulls out of the blonde completely, moving his weight off the smaller body and lying down beside him in the bed, looking into his pure, innocent eyes that seem to have regained some the life that was missing from them mere hours ago. What he cannot comprehend is how the boy can still seem so virtuous even after what they just did, and based on how he has been for so long, but it doesn't matter that he does not understand, he is happy to see the blonde looking more like himself than he has in years.

"Thank you…" the blonde mumbles tiredly, his eyes drooping from fatigue.

"I'm glad I could be of help" the jounin hesitates before he continues, almost whispering. "But why?" He's wondered all along – Why him, why now, why this?

"I needed to feel…" The teen is searching for the right words to say, not exactly sure what it is he's trying to word. "Real… and wanted." He smiles a sad, beautiful smile that touches the older's very soul.

Instinctively, as if it was the most obvious thing to do, the silver haired male moves closer to the blonde and places a brief and tender, loving kiss on the teen's lips, then he puts his arms around the child and they lay in silence until they are both overtaken by sleep.

When morning comes, which will be in few hours, things may, no, will change, but for now they sleep in peace, and in the comfort of safety from the other's presence.

--

**Random Rambling:**

**Yes, in that last sentence I did mean to say the comfort ****of** **safety, not and. What I mean, if you do not understand, is that they feel a sense of safety which they get from the other, and that they take comfort in that very safety.**

**Now tell me, please, did you like it?**

**Reviews are greatly appreciated, you know that, right **


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